'We don't want any prisoners,' Ken answered with a smile, and at his fluent Turkish the man's dark eyes opened in evident surprise. 'You are free.'
The Turk stared.
'Then you are separated from your own regiment,' he said keenly, and by his accent and language, Ken realised that he was a man of some education.
Ken did not answer.
'Your pardon, effendi,' said the Turk. 'I did not mean to ask idle questions. I thank you for your kindness, and I wish you happiness.'
'Come on, Ken,' broke in Roy, who was scanning the country uneasily. 'We are right out in the open here. That chap will be all right. Let's get into that wood as sharp as we can.'
'One moment,' said Roy, and turned to the Turk.
'If you care to do us a good turn, tell us the nearest way back to Gaba Tepe.'
The Turk pointed up the road.
'That is the nearest way, but, I need not tell you, the most dangerous. Our lines lie between here and the British. You must wait for the darkness of the night or you will for a certainty be captured. My advice to you is to conceal yourselves among the trees in the wood, and wait until the sun shall have set.'